The Might Have Been Boy
by Annikaya
Summary: Someone has appeared in the night to find Harry Potter. Someone with a lot to hide and a world to save.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit from this story.

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It was half past midnight, the moon shining brightly and illuminating the street as though it were a stage. Everything shone in stark relief, silent and unreal. In the little cookie-cutter houses on both sides of the street everyone slept in peaceful contentment, even the babies asleep for an hour or two before they demanded another night-time feeding. It was like a still-life painting.

Out of the blue, a sudden loud noise like a clap of thunder announced a large displacement of air. A figure appeared about six feet up, falling and bouncing like some demented cartoon character before coming to a rest, splayed against a tree trunk. The young man looked around in embarrassment but no one saw.

In one of the houses a dog roused itself enough to bark loudly once or twice. "Shaddap!" the tired voice of the owner ordered but no one came to see what the noise was.

The young man rose to his feet, brushing himself off. In the dark it was hard to tell if he was wearing a bathrobe, a dress, or some kind of long coat. He pulled out a thin stick and waved it about, muttering under his breath before turning the wand to point at his clothes. When nothing happened he grumbled a bit and shimmied awkwardly out of the robe, revealing a t-shirt and jeans. Still grumbling, he tucked the extra fabric under his arm.

Then he looked up at the night sky, picking out constellations with a calculating expression on his face. He swore.

"I'm too late." He sighed. "That'll make things more complicated." He pulled out the wand again. "Point me Harry Potter." The wand in his grasp lit up at the end, a little beam spouting out into the dark.

The young man squared his shoulders. "I guess I'd better see how good I really am at this saving-the-world business." There was a smaller thunderclap noise as he disappeared into the night as strangely as he had come.

In the morning when the dog went sniffing out mysteries, it found only some flattened grass and old gum wrappers. No one would ever have known that a wizard had been there at all.

The night shift at St. Mungo's psychiatric long term ward was usually pretty quiet, all the patients helped off to sleep with potions and charms. Every so often Marcia Higgleby could hear commotion a long way off in one of the other wards because, really, witches and wizards managed to get into the strangest messes regardless of the hours when decent folks should be sleeping. But no one ever ventured into the sad little space where the lunatics were housed, at least not _on purpose_. Usually Marcia wiled away the hours by reading terrible romance novels with names like "Merlin's Mistress" or "The Love Potion Bride" and complaining to herself about her uncomfortable shoes that no spell seemed to be able to fix.

So she was surprised to see the young man walking confidently toward her. "Can I help you?" she asked, thinking he was lost. Then she got a good look at his face. It was strange; he should have been completely nondescript looking with that brown hair and those brown eyes but somehow it gave her a jolt when those eyes fastened on her. Such a mild appearance surely didn't belong with that force of personality. She felt embarrassed and young and like _she_ was the one who didn't belong here. Quickly she hid "A Witch's Wedding" under some manila folders. The folders slid a bit, exposing the half-dressed woman on the cover of the book. Marcia readjusted the folders, trying to look important. It would have been a lot easier if she hadn't known she was barefoot under the desk, her shoes kicked off when they started bothering her too much.

Suddenly the man smiled. "Miss Higgleby? I'm the specialist that was sent for on the Longbottom case. Are they still sleeping?"

Marcia started scrambling through the paper work on her desk, looking for some mention of the man's visit. "Er..yes." The files started to look like a volcanic explosion on her desk.

"Perfect!"

"I'm sorry sir but I can't seem to find any mention of your coming. What exactly are you here for?" She eyed the paperwork over her book and hoped those weren't the files that detailed his coming. She held the folders firmly in place with one hand and pulled back just the top corner to peer in. Nope, nothing important, she realized with relief.

"It's extremely experimental. I utilize some new spell developments to view the dreams of patients and devise alternative therapy methods. Tonight is just the preliminary to see if the Longbottoms are suitable candidates."

Marcia ran a hand through her hair, flustered. "I'm going to have to contact my supervisor about this. Do you mind waiting here while I go floo him?"

"Go right ahead."

"I'm sorry sir." she apologized again. She felt for her shoes under the desk and couldn't find them.

"Er…" the man said, waiting for her.

She flushed in embarrassment but then her foot finally brushed against her missing shoe. "Right. Um. I'll be right back." Wincing at the uncomfortable shoes and mourning the loss of time with her book, Marcia Wiggleby minced down the hall, leaving the strange young man alone.

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Author's Note: Hopefully you'll like this. I've been toying with the idea since before book 7 ever came out and I finally decided to revamp it and post it. Give me a review and let me know what to fix before the next post! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit from this story.

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_** It was always the same. **__They are in the living room, Frank blowing multicolored bubbles out of his wand while Neville shrieks and giggles and reaches for them with pudgy hands. Alice is stringing orange and green lights at the windows for the upcoming Halloween festivities and alternately checking on the pumpkin pie that is cooking in the kitchen. The warm smell is already sneaking into the living room and she breathes it in appreciatively._

_ And then the doorbell rings._

_ Frank opens the door._

_ "RUN!" He starts to shout but is choked off by the Cruciatus curse that paralyzes his voice and sends him convulsing to the floor._

_ Alice screams and dives for Neville who is staring wide-eyed at the intruders.__** She knew what happened next. The laughing while the pain went in waves through her, blurring her thoughts until she couldn't remember that life had ever been anything but the endless pain and drifting. Somewhere she knew all this and she screamed but it still happened again and again and…**_

_** Everything stopped.**_ _Someone new is there. He looks around curiously, spotting Neville rolled up under the couch where the Death Eaters had and would miss him entirely. Finally he inspects Alice, on the floor next to the big front window, and Frank, still lying before the front door._ _**"This is not still happening. You've been cursed. It's after Halloween now." **_He steps over to Alice and moves her wand from her pocket into her hand. Then he does the same for Frank. _**"You're an auror, so you must know the Patronus charm. I'm going to unfreeze everything and then you need to cast your patronus, both of you. That should break Malfoy's handy-work. I know it's hard but you have to concentrate."**_ _He steps back and suddenly the laughter resumes._

"**EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!!" **And everything breaks apart.

"Sir?" Marcia looked around the desk, peering down the hallway. "He was right here, Healer Phoebus!"

Alex Phoebus looked around as well, sighing impatiently. Suddenly a door far down the hallway opened and a man and a woman in hospital garb stepped out.

"Merlin!" Phoebus swore. "How did they wake up?" He hurried down the hall to restrain the two patients before they could hurt themselves or someone else.

Frank Longbottom met the doctor's gaze with clear eyes and held out his hand to the doctor. "Err, hello there Healer Phoebus. Do you think you could let us go home now?"

Phoebus' jaw dropped a foot.

"Let's see here...Privit Drive, number one…two…three…" The young man stopped in front of number four, Privit Drive and eyed the house reluctantly. He squared his shoulders and marched up the front walk, fingers toying with the wand in his pocket nervously. He rang the bell and waited, inspecting the perfect hedge rows of the neighborhood and the utter lack of character. Up and down the street the curtains rustled as interfering busybodies peered out to see, praying for something more exciting than their own lives or the daily soaps.

The door creaked open and a narrow, suspicious face peered out. "Yes?"

The young man did his best to disguise a grimace at the grating voice that came from Mrs. Petunia Dursley. "Mrs. Dursley? Thank you so much for protecting Harry Potter while we hunted down his parents' murderer. I've come to take him off your hands now." The thanks stuck like rotten milk in the back of his throat but he said them anyway.

Petunia sagged in visible relief. "Thank heavens! I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come today. You know I have a wonderful little son of my own and we just can't take care of the boy too. And Vernon can't handle all that crying when he comes home from work. Come right in."

The woman kept up a steady stream of prattle as she led the young man into the house and into the kitchen. She smiled, a sickening and ingratiating expression. "You wait here and I'll be right back with the boy." Everything smelled overwhelmingly of lemons and cleaning solution.

She returned a few minutes later carrying a baby's car seat, a smaller basket with a blanket also on her arm. The toddler strapped into the car seat was red-faced but silent as fat tears rolled down his unhappy face. "He, ah, cries like that all the time." Petunia said nervously and deposited the whole armload on the kitchen table.

The young man fought hard to refrain from saying anything other than a thank you. He started to gather up the crying child and the other basket when Petunia cleared her throat purposefully. He looked up. "Yes?"

"You aren't going to take the car seat are you? It's Dudley's. We only put the boy in it so he couldn't get into any trouble."

The young man looked down at the buckle strapping Harry into the car seat and breathed in deeply, counting to ten before he forced a smile and released the restraint. "Upsy-daisy Harry. My, you're heavy, aren't you?" Baby Harry buried his wet face in the offered shoulder and sniffled as the other things were gathered up.

The young man nodded his head to Petunia Dursley. "Thank you again ma'am."

Without having even asked his name, Petunia Dursley watched the man walk out of her house with her nephew, never to return again.

Moments after disappearing from Privit Drive, one brown haired man and one dark haired toddler appeared on the front step of a badly beat-up house. The nearby houses were far better kept and, judging by the cars in the driveways, belonged to non-magical folk but the brown haired man didn't once look around as he pushed open the front door and stepped inside. Instantly a wizened bat-like creature about knee high came barreling toward them, screaming all the while.

"OUT! GET OUT! THIS IS THE FILTHY MASTER'S HOUSE! TRESPASSERS! MUD-BLOOD DEFILERS!"

The young man didn't even flinch. "Actually, I'm not a muggle-born, although it doesn't truly matter," he said as calmly as though he were relating the weather and then he spoke a strange spell that froze the creature in mid-step. All of this the toddler in his arms watched with wide-eyes.

"Mama?" Harry asked, obviously having recognized the use of magic as something his mother had done.

"Sorry Harry. Your mama is gone now. But it'll be ok, you'll see."

But the baby only understood that his mother wasn't coming back and began to whimper in earnest now, heartbreaking little sobs escaping the tiny body.

The young man sighed and set to work comforting the crying baby that would grow up to save the world.

It was hours later before he was able to get back to work. Patting down his pockets, his expression grew alarmed until he encountered a folded and torn piece of parchment in his back pocket.

"Accio quill!" He had to wait a few moments before a threadbare and spider-web covered quill came flying through the air to him. His nose wrinkled in distaste but he plucked it from the air anyway and then wiped it fastidiously on the hem of his cloak.

Unfolding the parchment, he studied it carefully. "Let's see…break curse at St. Mungo's, check. Rescue Harry…check."

He circled the next item on the list heavily and underlined it twice. His face was set into lines of hard determination. "So next I just have to…capture Peter Pettigrew."

Somewhere miles away, Percy Weasley's pet rat felt a terrible sensation in his spine and shuddered.

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Author's Note: You have no idea how hard that scene inside the Longbottoms' minds was. I wanted to show that it was a scene that kept replaying and that it was sort of like a dream, where you know what's about to happen but can't stop it-except then someone _did_ stop it. Hope it wasn't too confusing. Any suggestions on how to fix it would be appreciated. Also, did anyone catch the healer's name? I thought it was pretty funny… 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit off of this story.

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Unfortunately, the plan to capture Peter Pettigrew went wrong from the very beginning. Apparating in far enough away from the Burrough so as not to wake the family with the distinctive sound, the midnight visitor made his silent way toward the house. Or, at least, it was silent until the garden gnomes attacked his ankles with their fierce teeth.

"Mother of Merlin!" the would-be intruder swore softly and did a funny jig to dislodge the pests. This wasn't enough to deter them and every few steps he would swear again and jump around.

_Finally_, after what seemed like hours, he reached the house. Sliding open a ground floor window, he slithered in and landed in a heap on the floor. Something made a squelching sound under him and he grimaced as he stood up from the finger paints that one of the children had left out. He groaned in dismay and made for the stairs.

He made it up the stairs without mishap, remembering to avoid the creaky spot on the third step. He eased open the bedroom door so carefully it didn't even squeak. Inside, the bedroom was decorated sparsely with a few colorful pictures waving and smiling and two shiny posters. There was a dresser and a dusty toy trunk in one corner, a twin bed against the wall under the window. A tousled red head peeked out from underneath the covers.

The intruder drew his wand.

"Point me Peter Pettigrew!" he whispered, waiting for his wand to tug him toward the bed. It didn't. Instead, his wand was tugging insistently toward the side. The man inspected the dresser closely, seeing an empty rat cage but no rat. He pulled open the drawers and looked inside but the rat wasn't there either. Kneeling on the floor and peering under the dresser proved he wasn't there either. So what was his wand pointing at?

"Because I'm the minister, that's why," the sleeping boy said suddenly and the intruder jumped at the sound, hitting his head on the dresser. He froze, afraid the noise would wake the boy but it didn't.

The man crept out of the room and whispered the spell again. His wand was pointing to the room next door. The man groaned and eyed the room warily. Carefully he put his hand on the knob to ease open the door. Immediately fat blue sparks of electricity shocked him onto the floor but he had still managed to get the door open far enough that he could shove it open without needing to touch the knob again.

In contrast to the other neat room, this one looked like a disaster area. Clothing was strewn across the floor along with might have been sticks and leaves from outside, a strange black singe mark decorated one wall. Whizzing above the dresser, miniature toy broomsticks chased each other. Across from that, one small redhead hung half off of the top bunk of the bed while the other had squirmed around until his feet were up on the pillow, the sheet half-heartedly covering one sprawled out arm. The intruder grinned and shook his head before looking more carefully for his target. Now where could the rat be?

"_Squeak!"_

His attention was drawn back to the toy broomsticks. And there, tied to the underside of a broom and looking rather green as he was rocketed to and fro, was one rather pathetic looking rat. The intruder's expression became a gleeful shark grin, an expression that seemed unthinkable normally but now seemed to fit his face with ease.

He stepped forward, focused only on his prey. And that was his final mistake.

There was a sudden deafening explosion, accompanied by a bright flash and thick clouds of smoke. An alarm started buzzing. Startled, the man made a dash for the rat, only to trip once again, this time over the piece of string that the twin Weasley menaces had strung across the floor. The young man managed to grab the toy broom and struggling rat in one hand before bashing his face against the dresser and sprawling flat out on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, fighting the twins' dirty laundry that had tangled up his arms and legs. He raced for the door and down the hall to the stairs before skidding to a halt in front of the wand of Arthur Weasley. He turned to race back the other way but now the children were coming out of their rooms. Before he could try to push past him he heard Arthur shout _"Incarcerous_" and he, once again, fell to the floor. It just really wasn't his night.

There was a big commotion as the children woke up enough to see the strange man lying in the hallway covered in bite marks, paint and dirt, a black sock clinging to shoulder tenaciously. A very pale Molly Weasley had to work quite hard to hustle them back off to bed.

"Molly, call Dumbledore." Arthur ordered as he levitated the tied-up captive down the stairs to the living room. The captive wriggled and tried to say something but some of the ropes had ended up over his mouth and nothing intelligible came out. A few seconds later a still-shaken Molly entered the room, followed by the headmaster of Hogwarts and leader of the Order of the Phoenix. While he looked wide awake and deadly serious, his cotton duck pajamas and grindlylow slippers proved that he too had been sleeping.

With a quick spell, the bindings slid from the intruder's mouth.

"Who sent you?" The headmaster's voice was strangely powerful for a man of his years.

The intruder's eyes were wide with the fear of having been caught. "I only came for the rat. I swear I wasn't here to hurt anyone." He could still feel the rat squirming between his hand and the ropes binding him.

"Who sent you?"

"No one! I came for the rat!"

Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows drew together, as he tried to figure out what that meant. "Who are you?"

"Look, Sirius Black in innocent. He never even got a trial. Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper! He's still alive!" The rat in his hand went still and then began wriggling more desperately.

"What's your name?"

The intruder shut his mouth firmly, refusing to tell.

The headmaster eyed the intruder critically and then turned back to Arthur Weasley, who still had his wand pointed at the prisoner. "Call the Longbottoms."

"Not Alastor?"

"He's still on duty."

Arthur nodded and left the room.

"It'll go better for you if you tell us the truth. Death Eaters are getting harsh sentences in Azkaban right now." Dumbledore threatened.

"I'd _never_ be one of _his_!" The intruder spat, surprising the other.

"Then prove to us your good intentions."

"Peter Pettigrew is a rat animagus! He's been posing as Percy's pet rat. If you don't believe me, he's in my hand right now."

"That's a serious allegation, young man. How do I know you can be trusted while I untie your hands?"

"I don't know how to prove it to you!"

Frank Longbottom stepped into the room and did a double take. "You!" he exclaimed to the prisoner.

The prisoner groaned. "Why me?"

"You know this young man, Frank?" Dumbledore asked.

The auror nodded, "I don't know his name. He's the one that freed Alice and me." He turned to the prisoner. "Thank you."

Embarrassment crept into the prisoner's cheeks and he muttered what might have been an acknowledgement.

The headmaster clapped his hands together delightedly. "Well then, I think that means we can certainly untie you long enough to hear your story.

"Er…before you do, can you do something about Peter? He's currently trying to chew my finger off."

"Ah…right." The bindings slipped away from the prisoner's hands and the startled rat fell right into Dumbledore's waiting hand. "Stupify!" The rest of the bindings vanished and the former prisoner rubbed his wrists gently to restore circulation.

"Now, then. What's this about Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked.

"Do the point me spell. Or revelio. Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater and he sold out the Potters. Then he staged his death, framing Sirius Black."

Dumbledore turned to Frank. "Would you be so kind?"

"Right." Frank immediately cast the animagus reversing spell and immediately a pole-axed chubby man was lying on the floor rather than a fat rat. "Merlin's beard!"

Dumbledore said nothing. Only his eyes betrayed his profound sadness as he lifted up the loose sleeve to reveal the even more damning evidence against his former student. "Frank, you'd best take him to the ministry. There's no time to spare while Sirius is still in Azkaban."

The auror didn't spare any haste in carrying the still stupefied man out of the room. Dumbledore turned back to the young man. "How did you know?"

"Ah…er…" The young man looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Um…I'm a seer?" he finished weakly.

"Well, it seems you have saved more than a few lives in the past few days. And now that you're in no danger of reprisal from your rather…impetuous break-in, could you tell us your name?"

"A..Augustus."

"How ironic."

"How's that?"

"Augustus happens to be the middle name of someone I know…"

The young man laughed uneasily.

"Well, it is clear that you have strong moral fiber, my boy. How would you feel about meeting tomorrow to discuss how we might help you deal with these visions? You could come up to Hogwarts and meet some people who might be able to find slightly more…legal methods of dealing with this sort of situation."

An expression of sorrow flickered through Augustus' eyes. "Sometimes, headmaster, the legal aspect is the whole problem. But yes, I will come."

"Wonderful! Will you need directions? I can send someone to pick you up."

Augustus smiled and stood up. "I think I can find my way. I'll see you tomorrow Headmaster."

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Author's Note: Any ideas who Augustus is? Any random thoughts on the story? Drop me a line and let me know. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit off of this story.

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Apparently young Harry Potter did not approve of this arrangement, as he was busily whimpering when Augustus came through the door of Grimmauld Place.

"I'm sorry Harry. I thought you'd sleep right through the night. Guess those baby monitoring charms aren't much good if I forget to turn them on, are they? I'll make it up to you-get you a decent house elf to watch you while I'm gone. And maybe one of those miniature broomsticks like the Weasleys have. I know you'd like that." Augustus bounced the baby on his hip as he rummaged around in the kitchen for a bottle.

Curious at the commotion, Harry stopped crying and watched with bright eyes, half his fist stuck in his mouth.

Finally Augustus found the bottle he was looking for and set a saucepan on the stove to heat up some milk. "Don't look at me like that Harry. I swear I'm not going to blow us up." With a teasing grin he used his wand to create a puff of purple smoke over the milk. "Oops!"

Harry laughed. "More! More!"

An orange smoke cloud followed the first, sending Harry into a paroxysm of giggles. A whole color show progressed over the milk before it was finished heating up. Augustus handed the bottle to Harry. Harry started drinking happily, snuggling deeper into Augustus' arms as he became sleepier and sleepier.

"Momma?" he asked Augustus, eyes already half closed.

"Sorry Harry. But I'll bring you your Padfoot. Promise." He kissed the child's forehead, right over the scar.

"Pa'foot?" Harry murmured.

Augustus smiled down at the sleeping infant and went to put him back to bed.

It was bright and clear the next morning as Augustus made his way up to Hogwarts castle. Outside of Hagrid's hut something could be heard squawking cheerfully, on the quidditch pitch Madame Hooch was happily flying in death defying loops, and Professor Sprout was humming merrily as she planted something white and flowery along one path. Augustus passed by all of this with a faintly nostalgic expression on his face, clearly enjoying the pastoral scene.

"It _is_ a fine day out, isn't it?" Albus Dumbledore interrupted him. Augustus didn't seem at all startled, although he couldn't have known the man was there. "I say we have our little discussion out here instead of cooped up inside." When Augustus nodded, Dumbledore continued. "Wonderful! Have you had-"

"Dumbledore!" A voice interrupted him and they both turned toward the doors behind them, which had been forcefully slammed open. A dark skinned man in auror robes came running out. "Just thought you should know-Black's been cleared. Fudge didn't want to but with Pettigrew right there…"

"What are they going to do with Sirius now?"

"They're supposed to take him to St. Mungo's to check him over, see if he's sane, and all that. Best guess is they'll have to lock him up in the psychiatric ward after having been there so long."

"He's still sane." Augustus commented.

The auror looked at him questioningly.

"Ah, Kingsley, this is Augustus. He's the seer that discovered Pettigrew. Augustus, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Has anyone thought to tell Remus Lupin?" Augustus asked.

Kingsley looked confused again. "Ah…no?"

"Dumbledore!" The voice was raspy and tired but still forceful. Coming toward them from the village was a pale, gaunt man. His hair was straggly and a little longer than decent. It was obviously the recently cleared Sirius Black. "Dumbledore! Where's Harry?"

Dumbledore was visibly surprised to see him. "He's with his relatives. Shouldn't you still be at St. Mungo's? You need to take it slow, Sirius."

"I don't need to take it slow. I've been taking it slow while I sat in that cell and did nothing! Now I want to see my godson and make sure he's ok. _Especially_ since you put him with his relatives. They hate magic! Lily and James specifically asked you to put him with Remus if something went wrong!"

"Now Sirius-"

"You can explain later." Sirius took off back the way he had come.

Kingsley looked after the man curiously. "He's more likely to scare the little tyke looking like that. And how does he think he's going to take care of a baby right now?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry has to stay with his family. I'm sure Petunia will explain it to him."

"Don't you think it might be a problem later, Harry being raised by muggles and all?" Kingley asked.

"Nonsense. Family is always the best solution."

"I was raised by relatives after my parents…passed away." Augustus volunteered. "I don't always think it was the best choice. I think they tried to love me but…they really didn't know what to do with me or what to make of me."

"But you turned out fine, didn't you, my boy?"

Augustus said nothing. He just glanced nervously at a baby monitoring bracelet he was wearing.

Dumbledore noticed. "Are we keeping you, Augustus?"

"No, I just left my brother at home. I've got a house elf watching him but…" Augustus shrugged.

"How little?"

Augustus smiled fondly. "A lot littler than I imagined him being. I always expect to find a stubborn seventh year Gryffindor waiting for me."

"Yes, I always forget how small the children are too until I see them again at the sorting feast." Dumbledore admitted.

"And they're so much more fragile than we remember…"

Dumbledore's look turned puzzled at that strange comment.

Augustus waved that away with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Well, I'll be on my way…" He turned and started to walk away from the castle and toward the edges of the anti-apparating wards. He was trying to hurry without looking like he was hurrying. As he reached the edges of the wards, Sirius Black reappeared, already running. His face was dark as a thundercloud.

"Dumbledore!"

Augustus winced and apparated away as fast as he could.

Harry laughed and clapped his hands together when he saw Augustus appear.

"That's right Harry. Did you miss me?" Augustus asked as he scooped the kid out of the playpen and looked around the small house that he'd found when he'd had to move them out of Grimmauld Place.

Harry made a grab for Augustus' wand and the man laughed. "Not yet Harry. You'll have your own wand soon enough. Until then, I think you cause quite enough trouble without one."

Harry turned bright green eyes on his guardian and pouted. Augustus looked into those

eyes and seemed lost. "Oh, Harry." He sighed. "I just hope this is enough…It has to be enough."

"Magic?" Harry pleaded.

Augustus smiled. "You ready for some protection spells? We're going to make you the safest baby that's ever been born!"

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Author's Note: So, any ideas on how to make it less obvious who Augustus really is? 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit off of this story.

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The next time Augustus saw Dumbledore was after a mail owl tracked him down asking for a meeting at Hogwarts. Closer to evening the building was mostly deserted and Augustus made his way to Dumbledore's office without running into anyone. The stone gargoyle was open, so Augustus headed on up, only to stop short. Crowded into Dumbledore's office were many people he didn't recognize and many he did but the one thing they all had in common was the worried looks on their faces. The Longbottoms smiled welcomingly at him but he still felt his face flush with all the attention directed at him. He'd always hated being the center of attention! 

Dumbledore smiled encouragingly at him. "Augustus, do come in. Don't mind all these people. They were just leaving."

"What can I do for you headmaster?"

Dumbledore waited until everyone had left. "We were hoping you might consider joining a little…group of ours. I think you're quite the right sort of person and that we can trust you."

"Would this be the Order of the Phoenix?" Augustus asked, seemingly a bit surprised about being invited but not about the group itself.

"Ah, you're aware of it?"

Augustus nodded.

"Well, then. What do you say?"

Augustus thought about it for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Finally he nodded sharply. "Yes, I think I will. I'll warn you though that I tend to end up in a lot of trouble. Karma or something."

Dumbledore laughed sadly. "I wish you could have met James Potter. He and his friends caused more than enough trouble. I'm sure you'll fit in with his friends without any trouble. Now then, I'll just introduce you to the sorting hat first." He pulled the battered hat off the top shelf and stuck it on Augustus' head without any warning.

The hat made a sound like a grumpy old man. _**What's this then? Oh, a tricksy one, aren't you?**_

_I had a good reason to break those rules and come here!_

The hat laughed. _**Well, it's not like you're the first person who believed their own reasoning. Let's see, lots of courage, that's for sure. I suppose I could put you in Gryffindor again. Are you sure you don't want me to put you-**_

_No!_

_**Still refusing, eh? No matter.**_ "Gryffindor!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Wonderful. There are a few magical oaths you'll have to make but before that, there's one more important question. Please give your best answer and take as much time as you need to think about it."

Augustus swallowed nervously. His palms began to sweat.

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and leaned closer. Full of deadly seriousness, he asked, "Do you like lemon drops?"

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"Augustus, I'm glad you could make it, my boy." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly.

Augustus did his best to hide his nervousness. "What can I do for you headmaster?"

"We have a bit of a dilemma…" Dumbledore began.

"You're a seer, aren't you?" another voice interrupted.

"Remus…" Dumbledore gently reproved the other. "You'll pardon Remus here. He's very concerned. You see, Harry Potter seems to have disappeared and Remus was rather close with Harry's parents."

"Of course…"Augustus murmured.

"We were hoping, of course, that you might be able to give us some insight into the situation."

"Ah…er…that is to say…it doesn't quite work that way. I'm sorry…I really don't know anything…."

Dumbledore seemed to deflate a little. "Ah. Well, I suppose…"

"Headmaster, you're aware that I went with Sirius to Grimmauld Place this morning to fetch come clean clothes?" Remus asked.

Dumbledore looked at him quizzically. "Yes…"

"So, perhaps,_Augustus_, you'd like to explain why the whole house smelled like you and Harry when _Harry's never been to Grimmauld Place before?!!!"_

"What are you talking about?" Augustus tried but already the Headmaster's eyes had turned penetratingly upon him.

"Perhaps you are unaware, Augustus, but Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. If he says that the house smells like you and Harry, then he is undoubtedly correct. So, would you care to explain?"

"Surely you don't still believe I'm a Death Eater! I proved that Sirius was innocent and that it was Pettigrew. What would I want with Harry Potter?"

"_Where is he_?" Remus snarled

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I believe, Augustus, that you have some questions to answer." Dumbledore replied as he drew his wand and Augustus knew no more.

When he awoke, he was once again bound to a chair. This time however, he knew he faced the entire assembly of the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius Black stood glaring at him from the back, Remus' hand on his arm probably the only thing restraining him from leaping on Augustus and tearing him limb from limb. All around him were unfriendly glares. What cut him the deepest though was Molly Weasley in the corner, crying on her husband's shoulder. "The poor boy," she sniffled. "The poor, poor dear." Her voice was the only thing to pierce the silence.

Finally Dumbledore spoke. "Augustus."

"I won't let you have him. I won't ever let you have him. I won't watch him die piece by piece until there's nothing left because you can't fight your own damn war. You don't deserve him and I can't…I can't…" his voice broke.

"Augustus. We have no intentions of hurting the boy. We just wish what's best for him. Tell us where he is."

"No."

"We will use verituserum if we have to. _Where is Harry Potter?_"

Augustus said nothing.

Snape stepped forward with the verituserum and forced Augustus to swallow a dosage.

Augustus lifted his chin defiantly and stared into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "My name is Neville Augustus Longbottom. I'm an auror and I've illegally traveled into the past, fully aware of the consequences, in order to save the life of Harry Potter. I won't let you have him. Not you."

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Author's Note: Ok, you all guessed it. I didn't think it would be so easy to figure out it was Neville. Oh well. Anyway, I think the next chapter will be the last one. Yay!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no profit off of this story.

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"_Neville?!"_Augustus, no, Neville wasn't sure which one of his parents spoke. The room filled with shocked whispers and mutterings. Even the unflappable Dumbledore was taken aback. "Augu…Neville, I assure you, if you just tell us the circumstances, we can provide protections and keep Harry safe. There's no need to continue hiding him from us when, with your knowledge and our skills, we can better protect him together." Dumbledore reasoned.

But Neville had had enough. He had seen battle and death but there was one thing worse than all of these. There was one thing that kept him up at night, one thing that would drive him and sustain him through anything. These people understood nothing. It was too much. Neville's last secret broke free, the thing he would go to any lengths to prevent from happening again. _"He killed himself!_ Harry Potter _killed himself!_ How are you going to protect him from what _you_ did to him?!" he screamed, sobs that he wouldn't let out tearing at his throat.

There was stunned silence. No one spoke. Sirius' face was frozen in disbelief and somehow he looked worse than when he'd first come from Azkaban.

"He just…looked so small. He killed Voldemort and then he just…not right away but…I found him afterwards. He seemed so…" Neville's voice was hushed.

"Neville…" For once Dumbledore didn't know what to say.

Neville turned pleading eyes to the headmaster. "I know that he's not going to the Dursleys' this time and Pettigrew's not a problem but I just can't risk it. Harry deserved so much more than that."

"Why?" Sirius' voice was strangled.

Neville shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe because he felt like he couldn't live up to everyone's expectations. Maybe because he felt like his life had only been to destroy Voldemort. Maybe because too many loved ones had died. I don't know."

"What are you going to do?" This came from McGonagall.

"I'll tell him the truth and prepare him instead of waiting until it's too late. I'll support him. And I'll do my best to let him know he's not alone."

"He's not safe where he is." Dumbledore said gently. "He needs to live with his relatives where there are blood protections. The blood wards will keep him safe from Voldemort."

"But not from the Dursleys. I won't allow him to spend the first eleven years of his life living in a cupboard under the stairs doing all the household chores in the hopes that they'll feed him."

"We can prevent that. I'm sure we can talk things over with his relatives and be reasonable about this. And with your knowledge of the future, we can protect Harry."

"No headmaster." Neville shook his head resolutely. "You believed that before too. And it never worked. I'm the only one that knows where Harry is and I've hidden that information in such a way that no spell or potion can make me tell you. I'll die and let Harry die before I tell you. At least this way it will be quick and painless. You have to understand, I'm not abandoning him to you."

Sirius spoke up. "What about me? I'm his godfather. You're going to take him away from me?"

"I don't want to. But how do I know you won't just turn his fate back over to the headmaster? Harry saved my life, saved the whole damn _world _and I owe him. I have to make sure he's safe."

Dumbledore turned to Snape, his expression regretful. "Severus, if you please." Neville knew he was giving the other the order to ready his legilimancy.

Neville closed his eyes and prayed. Because he knew that legilimancy would trigger the spell he'd cast. Would cause his death and Harry's. _I'm sorry Harry, _he thought. _It's the best I could do…_

A sudden bang resounded through the room! Neville jerked his head up to see someone come careening into the room, knocking over Neville's chair and sending them both to a tumbled heap on the floor.

"Stop!" And Harry Potter scrambled to his feet, placing himself firmly between Neville and the rest. He was taller than Neville remembered him being, even though he looked all of about fifteen. The lines that worry and strain had dug into his face that Neville had never noticed before were gone. "Don't hurt Uncle Neville!"

"Uncle Neville?" Dumbledore was bewildered.

Harry grinned. "It's alright, professor. See?" He held up his arm, where Fawkes had flown to rest. "You sent me back yourself. And Neville's wife would be pretty upset if you did anything bad to him."

"Wife?!" Neville swore that if there were any more surprises, he would just give up and pass out.

"I don't want to ruin _all_ the surprises!" Harry shoved something into Dumbledore's hands and pulled a strange looking necklace out from around his neck, twisted it, and disappeared.

"Was that-"someone started to say.

"Looked like some sort of advanced time turner to me." McGonagall said.

Dumbledore held up the thing that Harry had handed him before disappearing. It was a picture of Harry, most of his class mates at Hogwarts, Remus, and Sirius. Harry's grin outshone everyone's. Sirius was holding up a Daily Prophet, which kept flashing the headlines "Boy-Who-Lived Defeats You-Know-Who!"

There was silence in the room.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke. "It appears I was wrong to doubt you, my boy. I must indeed leave Harry in your capable hands, as I apparently already have. Will do. Nothing like time travel to mess with your verb tenses."

Neville shrugged and realized the force that had been binding him to the chair was gone. "I don't mean to steal him, headmaster." He included Sirius and Remus in his look. "I just want to be the one that keeps him safe."

"What's going to happen now?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Now…now, we'll be going home. And you and Remus will be coming over for dinner and maybe Mrs. Weasely will want to set up some play dates for Harry and Ron and eventually Harry will grow up to be a happy kid."

And somewhere in the future, Harry Potter lived Happily Ever After.

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Author's Note: Ok, I don't think Harry would ever commit suicide but the thought attacked me and wouldn't let me go. I think Neville would have felt like he owed it to Harry to go back and save him though, whatever the consequences. Neville would have felt like he owed it because it could have been him, Harry had defeated Voldemort for them, and because Neville's his friend and should have noticed Harry was unhappy. There'd be _tons_ of guilt about that. Anyway, I really just wrote this because I think Neville's awesome and neglected. He deserved way more screen time and book time than he got. Hope you enjoyed this story and I'd love to hear what you think! 


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